Chapter 26 Chapter twenty six
AANYA
The address Rosa had given me was in Camberwell, a twenty-minute bus ride from Priya's flat. I had looked up the route last night, memorized the stops, made sure I understood exactly where I was going.
The building was a converted warehouse, now housing a community legal clinic. A small sign by the door read "South London Legal Aid Centre - Free Consultations Available."
I walked in, feeling completely out of place.
The waiting room was full of people who looked like they had been waiting for hours. A woman with three children trying to keep them quiet. An elderly man reading a newspaper with shaking hands. A young couple speaking quietly in a language I did not recognize.
I approached the reception desk, feeling acutely aware that everyone was looking at me. Recognizing me. The disgraced princess, here seeking help from a free legal clinic.
"I have an appointment," I said quietly. "Aanya Windsor. Rosa Lombardi referred me."
The receptionist, a woman in her thirties with kind eyes, nodded. "Ms. Chen is expecting you. Second floor, office three. Take the stairs on your left."
I climbed the stairs, found office three, knocked.
"Come in."
The woman behind the desk was perhaps forty, with sharp eyes and an expression that suggested she had heard every possible story and was not impressed by any of them. She stood, extended her hand.
"Sarah Chen. Rosa said you might be coming. Sit down."
I sat.
She pulled out a file, opened it. "I reviewed the lawsuit papers Rosa sent over last night. Crown Estate is suing you for two million pounds, claiming defamation based on your statements at the Brixton Community Forum. They are alleging that your accusations of systematic displacement, environmental racism, and negligent safety practices caused measurable financial and reputational harm. Is that accurate?"
"Yes."
"And the palace has offered to settle if you issue a public retraction and apology?"
"Yes."
"What did the retraction say, specifically?"
I pulled out my phone, found the email from palace communications, handed it to her. She read it, her expression darkening.
"This is comprehensive capitulation. You would be admitting that everything you said was based on incomplete information and emotional manipulation. You would be claiming activist influence. You would be apologizing for harm to Crown Estate's reputation. Essentially, you would be validating their entire position and undermining Dr. Marchetti's research."
"I know."
"Are you planning to sign it?"
"I do not know. That is why I am here. I need to understand what happens if I refuse. What my actual options are."
Sarah leaned back in her chair. "Your options are limited. You have no money for legal representation. I can provide some assistance pro bono, but I am not equipped to handle a two\-million\-pound defamation case against Crown Estate's legal team. You would need a major firm, which would require resources you do not have."
"So my choice is take the deal or lose everything."
"Not necessarily. There are defenses available in defamation cases. Truth is an absolute defense. If you can prove that your statements were factually accurate, Crown Estate cannot win. The problem is that proving truth requires discovery, expert witnesses, document production, and time. All of which costs money you do not have."
"Dr. Marchetti's research proves truth. He has documentation for everything I said."
"His research helps, but it is not sufficient on its own. Crown Estate will argue that his research is biased, that he has a personal vendetta because of his father's death, that he cherry-picked data to support predetermined conclusions. You would need independent verification. Additional expert witnesses. More comprehensive documentation than what he has already produced."
"Which I cannot afford."
"Which you cannot afford through traditional legal channels. But there are other options." Sarah pulled out another file. "I have been working with a coalition of environmental and housing advocacy groups who have been trying to build a case against Crown Estate for years. They have researchers, data analysts, community testimonies. They have been waiting for someone with a platform to make this issue public. Your statement at the forum did exactly that. If you refuse the palace's deal and fight this lawsuit, they are prepared to support you."
"Support how?"
"Legal assistance. Expert witnesses. Document production. They cannot fund a full defense, but they can provide resources that make it possible to actually fight rather than just capitulate. It would still be difficult. You would still face significant personal risk. But it would not be impossible."
I felt something shift in my chest. Not hope exactly, but possibility.
"What would I have to do?"
"Refuse the palace's deal. Publicly commit to defending your statements. Allow the advocacy coalition to coordinate your legal defense. And understand that this will be a long, difficult process with no guarantee of success. Crown Estate has significant resources. They will make this as painful as possible to discourage others from speaking out. You would be under constant scrutiny. The media would dissect your life. Your family would likely increase pressure. And even with support, there is a real possibility you could still lose and face bankruptcy."
"But there is also a possibility I could win."
"There is a possibility you could win. More importantly, there is a certainty that fighting will keep the issue public. Crown Estate wants this to go away quietly. If you refuse to settle, if you force them to actually litigate, you force them to defend their practices in open court. Discovery alone could expose information they have been trying to hide for years. Even if you ultimately lose the case, the publicity could create enough pressure to force reform."
I thought about that. About the families at the forum. About Lorenzo Marchetti dying because safety violations were not worth fixing. About Dev's research documenting systematic harm.
"What happens if I sign the palace's statement?" I asked. "If I take the deal?"
"The lawsuit goes away. You get your title back. You return to your family. And Crown Estate continues operating exactly as they have been, with confirmation that speaking out against them results in destruction. Every family considering fighting displacement will remember what happened to you. Every researcher documenting their practices will think twice about publication. Every activist pushing for accountability will know that even a princess with a platform was not powerful enough to challenge them."
She was not judging. Just stating facts. But the facts were damning enough.
"How long do I have to decide?"
Sarah checked her watch. "Your deadline is ten AM. It is currently eight forty-five. You have just over an hour."
"Can I use your office? I need to make some phone calls."
"Of course. I will be downstairs if you need me. Take your time."
She left, closing the door behind her.
I sat alone in the small office, looking out the window at South London waking up. People heading to work. Buses running their routes. Normal life continuing while I tried to decide who I was going to be.
I pulled out my phone. Three missed calls from my mother. One from Sir Michael. Multiple texts from palace communications asking for confirmation that I would sign the statement.
And one text from Dev, sent at three in the morning while I was sitting on Priya's bathroom floor trying to decide.
I know you're probably not reading these. But I need you to know: what I said tonight was wrong. I was scared and I lashed out. You do belong here. You're braver than I gave you credit for. Whatever you decide about the lawsuit, I'll support you. I'm sorry I made you doubt that.
I read it again. Then again.
Then I opened my contacts and made the hardest phone call of my life.
My father answered on the second ring. "Aanya. Have you made your decision?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"I am not signing the statement. I am refusing the palace's offer. I am going to fight the lawsuit."
Silence. Long enough that I thought he might have hung up.
"Do you understand what you are doing?" he said finally. "You are choosing bankruptcy over safety. You are choosing to fight a battle you cannot win against an opponent with unlimited resources. You are throwing away your last chance to come home."
"I understand."
"Then you are a fool. And I cannot help you anymore. Your mother and I tried to save you from yourself. We offered you a way back. You have chosen to refuse it. That is your decision to live with."
"I know."
"Do not call asking for help when this falls apart. Do not come to us when you are bankrupt and desperate and have nowhere else to go. You are making this choice with full knowledge of the consequences. You are on your own."
"I know," I said again. "And I am sorry it has to be this way. But I cannot lie about what I saw. I cannot betray the families who believed me. I cannot undermine Dev's research to save myself. Even if it costs me everything."
"It will cost you everything. I hope your principles are worth it."
He hung up.
I sat holding the phone, feeling the finality of what I had just done. My father had made it clear. I was choosing exile permanently. There would be no more offers. No more chances to come back. This was final.
And I had chosen the hard path anyway.
I texted Sarah: I am refusing the deal. I want to fight. How do I start?
Her response came immediately: Come downstairs. We have work to do.
I stood, gathered my things, took one last look out the window at the city I was fighting for.
Then I went downstai
rs to start a war I would probably lose.
But at least I would fight it as myself, not as a performance of who the palace wanted me to be.